River Walker
by trikiskars
Summary: I've decided to create a new story for Christian and Anastasia, though they are the same, their surroundings will be completely different. Ana cleans houses for a living and Christian's a European criminal. How will they manage to cooperate?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello! This story came out from one interesting and rather long discussion I had with my boyfriend, about the mafia and the European countries where they had families based (including my own country.) As usual, I began drawing a plot in my mind and this time I decided to give it a shot, and try to turn it into a decent story.

It is a FSOG fan-fic but only the characters are the same. Though their personalities and physiognomy might change a little, they're pretty much similar to the originals. But that's about it, the rest is totally original.

The story takes place in my fictional town of River Walker, a small location in Louisiana, close to New Orleans. Anastasia is 21 one but due to unfortunate accidents, she didn't get the chance to go to college. She lives with her grandmother and cleans houses for a living.

Christian is Italian and his family moves to an old house in River Walker. He's obviously a criminal. A charming, sexy as hell criminal, but a criminal nonetheless. The Grigio family (it means Grey in Italian, just so you now) moved to the USA due to some business they needed to do and they decided to pick a small location in order to go under the radar.

A lot of messy and complicated twists will be bond to happen and it will turn Anastasia's life upside down. Will she manage to deal with Christian's nature? It will be very trick and complicated, that's for sure.

* * *

**1.**

I saw commotion everywhere, folks where excited about the news that travelled town. The old River house was being cleaned, as it was apparent that some family of foreigners had bought it some time ago and wanted now to exercise their right of using it.

I stared at the great-house façade, it had been restored since the buy-out. The significant traces were still there: the grand entrance between two enormous and polished pillars, the big door still built of intimidating dark-wood with delicate patterns on the center, the majestic and now trimmed gardens still extending in both the front and the back of the house and fading away along the margin of the town river. It was the biggest, grandest and most breathtaking house I had ever laid eyes on, yet I still preferred it when its walls were not so shiny and its white ancient-stones not so polished. It had a different appeal, a mysterious aura that hovered the lonely habitation and that faded away with the mist of the close river.

Now it was just a restored house, ready to take in some, obviously, incredibly rich family who decided that some backwater town in Louisiana would be a good place to take upon some rest from their normally busy life elsewhere.

I almost shrugged but Albee passed by me at the moment, his forehead beamed with drops of sweat but a positively sweet smile laid on his familiar face.

"Hey Annie!" He greeted with the drop of his working hat. He and his crew were finishing fixing the garage of the house. "Are you here to start the cleanings?"

I nodded reluctantly. I wasn't a great talker nor one for mildly chitchat.

"Heard everyone coming in to help," He scratched the back of his neck. "'Course everyone being paid but so, it's a heck of a job to do. Such a big house, don't know if I'd like to live here all by myself."

Somehow that peaked my attention, I wasn't keen on gossiping but even the River House events had appeal to my curiosity. "Is it only one person that's coming in?" I asked, trying to keep the surprise out of voice.

"Don't know yet," Albee corrected himself, apparently his thought had just been speculation. My shoulders tumbled, so much for novelties. "But it better be a big family for such a darn place."

"Perhaps it is." I added before keeping on my way to the back entrance.

I sighed when I got there, one thing Albee was right about, it was a damn big house and it would be a heck of a trouble to clean it all before the newcomers. That is what I do for living, clean houses of the inhabitants of River Walker, a small location, all the way southern from its people to its traditions. I was raised here but moved when I was little and when a favorable job opportunity appeared to my mother. We went to live in Shreveport and later on in New Orleans, when I was already a teen. Unfortunately and due to drastic events my life turned upside-down and I had to come live with my grandmother.

My mother died in a car accident one autumn's afternoon, I was back in school enjoying my junior high when the fatidic news came upon me. It changed my whole life. Grandmother was the closest and dearest relative I had and she was all but hoping to take me in, both for her and my sake. Our income is not the best, she receives a little pension as her reform and if it wasn't for the money my mother had bared to save up and the sale of our house in New Orleans it would have been very hard to sustain both of us. I never got the option to go to college as it was an expensive luxury. Instead and following my grandmother footsteps, I'm in the cleaning business. Not that I'm a business myself, but I do the cleaning that's for sure.

Usually I work alone, I prefer so, I'm not overly social and I was an outcaste when I came back to town. My mother had not held great reputation after dumping my father for cheating on her, and leaving town with a small child on her own hands. Like I said, River Walker is southern all the way and that includes both the worst and the best implications. I found that hard to deal with at first, but now I manage to come to terms with the fact that you can love a place even if you don't agree with its mores, and even if you don't relate to every tradition you can still be proud of the positive aspects. It was a sneaky balance to find, but I did found it eventually.

I was never the town sweetheart, yet some folks still like me enough to be gentle and kind. If it's due to true affection or just simple pity out of my destiny, I don't know but I guess it doesn't matter either.

This time around, I'd be working with almost half the town's women. The house was so big it would be impossible for a single person to clean it in a week's time. The family was trying to hire some cleaning service to do that, but Mr. Farwell – the town's oldest habitant – managed to persuade the buyers that instead of hiring professional and expensive crews for the small jobs (such as cleaning the house and fixing garages and pavements), they should employ local people. They did agreed to it and after the major working on the structure of the mansion, they hired every River Walker resident that was available. Of course that meant half of the town population. Not only did the family pay well but everyone wanted a chance to snoop around the house and get some fresh gossip to talk about on every social gathering that came up.

The old River House was the topic of the day, every day, as it was probably the biggest event of the year.

I got to the back of the house and saw the servants' door already open, I casted a quick glance around the surroundings and my breath got caught on my throat. _Damn_, the place was bigger than I'd ever believe it to be. It had centenarian trees all around the space that separated the private property from the town's pride, the river. There was a big terrace covered in windows from the ceiling to the floor with a grand pool, comfortably looking chairs and couches and a five-star worthy grill and bar.

After the terrace the gardens extended until the water line and there was a path that conducted to a private dock. Every bush was perfectly trimmed and I wonder briefly how much money this family could possibly have. I didn't wonder much after that because Beanie Berrywhite came rushing out, looking excitedly at me.

"Oh my gosh," She gushed, waving her hands around. "Have you seen inside the house?"

I shook my head, but she was too excited, looking everywhere to notice my gesture. I had to speak. "No. Just got here, I thought it was supposed to be here after lunch to start cleaning…"

One thing I'm proud about is that I always arrive on time. So seeing some workers, of the cleaning department, already there made me wonder. "Oh yes," She giggled, almost blushing. "But we wanted to come earlier so we could check on the house."

My eyes widen but I said nothing, it was typical behavior, after all. I just nodded signalizing I understood what she said.

"Wonder who'll come live here…" She shared, more to herself than me. I had the same wonders and I guess everyone nearby was dying to have the answer for that.

"Doesn't Mr. Farwell know the buyers?" I asked after a while. I admit it, I was indeed too curious about the old house proprietaries.

"No," Beanie said, clearly disappointed. "He only talked to their lawyers." My eyes almost popped out of their orbits. They needed a lawyer to handle their deals? Now, I was really wondering how much money they could possess. "But he suspects they're not Americans." Beanie continued.

"Oh." I whispered, that could explain the need for a lawyer but it still appeared that they were filthy rich.

"I know!" She squeaked, all excitement back in her.

I've decided to go on in, Beanie was keen on exploring the gardens but I thought that was invasion of property. They were paying me to clean their house and make it look livable, not to go around and spy on their things.

When I arrived, I stepped from a short hallway to the kitchen. It was big, shiny and brand new just as the rest of the house. It was also almost the size of my bedroom, my gran's and our living room all together but no point in saying that aloud. There were already a lot of people there, sitting, pacing, looking fascinated at the surroundings. Cordelia Thibodeaux, the wife of the town's sheriff, was the one that seemed to be leading the pack – as usual.

"Ana," She called in a way of greeting. "Glad you already here, do you care to see the house?" She was being the charming host as if that was indeed her own home. I almost snorted but managed to hold back.

"Shouldn't we be cleaning?" I asked instead.

"We will," Cordelia resumed to her admiration of the kitchen when she saw I didn't held the same excitement they had. "Let's just wait for everyone and will divided tasks."

And that was that.

"Okay."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The days passed by as a blur, during the week of the River House cleanings I was forced to schedule all my other appointments to followings weeks because it was impossible to keep all jobs at the same time and get it done. My clients were more than happy to let me change the timetables because they were beaming with the prospect of new and fresh information about the house and its owners.

I wasn't one to share private stuff and all the while I worked there, I resumed to my own tasks and avoid any kind of snooping. I wasn't a very educated person but I still had my own morals and values. I did what I was paid to do, and I did it damn well.

But the cleanings of the River House were two weeks ago and after that the owners had already moved in, but I was so busy with all the compensations I had to made to my other clients that I still hadn't got the time to try and see them. Much to the town's dismay, it appeared that they were private folks. I didn't listen much to gossiping so whenever they were talking about them, I tried to not listen to anything it was being said, but after a whole week it was impossible not to know some things that were being shared between the people.

For once they were Italians and it was a whole family that moved in, and it appeared that they were a very big family. They were handsome, wealthy and everyone was thrilled with their exotic appeal. Most exotic and innovated things aren't well appreciated in River Walker but they had just a bit of strangeness that was enough to be accepted and interesting.

It was almost noon when I stepped inside my house. I walked through the back door that leads immediately to the kitchen. My house was one of those old, typically southern houses with a back and a front porch built out of decking material, with two stories in height and a gabled roof. It was all white and all historic, as it was built sometime along the foundation of the town by some great-great-great-great-grandfather or so. It is in desperate need of some work, but we're managing to get along only making small reparations when it's absolutely indispensable.

The smell of home cooked meal hit me first and I instantly drop my bag with cleaning supplies on the counter and went to the table to get some much needed nutrition back in my body.

"Oh goodie," My Gran said, turning around from the stove. "You're here. There's something I want to talk to you about. Are you hungry?"

"A little," I answered. I was hungry but if I said so, my grandmother would force me to eat a whole pan of whatever she made, all by myself and even though I wasn't a very large person, I still like to watch out for my body. It is one of the few things I have absolutely control over.

"Now you eat that," She said putting a plate in front of me. "And I'll go make a phone call. I need to talk to Betty, church gathering is a week from now. We need to start making arrangements."

I nodded but she didn't get to see it, Gran was already out of the door and onto the hall where we had our phone. I could hear her mutter some words and arranging things with Betty Kindell – her church buddy. After a while, and when my food was almost eaten, Gran came back into the kitchen, a satisfied expression in her elder yet lovely features.

"Are you responsible for the organization of the summer gathering too?" I asked when she sat in front of me.

"Oh yes. Betty, Willie Mae and I are taking care of things. You know how pastor Prescott is, always demanding, I prefer it that way but there are some folks who aren't responsible enough for such a task."

I nodded, the seasonal gatherings in the Baptist Church of River Walker were something that people always looked for. It was held in the congregation building and it was something like a late lunch after an especial service the minister, Deacon Prescott, gave.

"I wish more youngsters would join the organization," Gran continued eyeing me conspicuity. "Perhaps even you could join in."

"I don't have time." My tone was flat and hopefully left no room for arguing with that. I didn't wish for one bit to join any group.

Gran chewed on her cheek and I knew she wanted to say something more. I sighed. "Maybe you can leave some clients… You do work a lot honey, it wouldn't be wrong to do so."

"We need the money."

"Well, perhaps we could squeeze the budget a little more," Gran fidgeted with her frail hands and looked kindly at me. I knew she was only concerned but I didn't want to argue about that. Her white, thick hair was held back in one perfectly arranged bun in the back of her neck and she took her time smoothing it before continuing. "You're still so young honey, and I don't want to rob you of your youth."

"You're not robbing me of anything Gran."

She eyed me dubious but understood that the topic was closed. Thank god.

"Wasn't there something you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked all too eager to change the subject.

"Oh yes," Gran tapped her own forehead and a smile stretched in her lips. "Have you seen the owners of River House?"

Oh great, more gossiping. To Gran's credit, she was one of most skilled gossipers in town, always onto the novelties. I shook my head, I heard about them, but I had never seen anyone.

"Well, it appears they're looking for a full-time maid." Gran was obviously excited but I failed to understand the reason.

"Okay…"

"You know… perhaps you maybe be interested."

"I already have a job." Color drained from my cheeks, I didn't like abrupt changes. I was done with that in my life.

"Yes honey, but think about it, wasn't it better if you had a full-time job in the same place, instead of having to run around from one house to another, all day? Plus, I'm sure they'd pay pretty well. You'd earn more than what you make now, I'm sure of it." She was indeed sure of it but I wasn't.

"So are you saying I should dish on my clients to go work for a family that no one knows how long is going to stay in town?" Gran's brow furrowed and I knew she hadn't dwelt much on the subject. "Who's to say they won't go away after summer?"

"Well…"

"Plus, my earning may not be much but it's stable. I can count on my clients."

"I'm not saying to dish anything just yet, I was just suggesting perhaps you may want to go to the interview and see what all is about."

"I'll think about it." I conceded, though I was sure I wasn't really thinking about anything. The idea just didn't sound appealing enough to me, it was too much trouble.

Gran smiled and I got up from my seat, ready to clean the kitchen before heading back to my usual day of work. "Do you want me to put the chicken in the fridge?" I shouted to Gran, when I saw how much food had remained.

"Yes honey, you put it away. We can still eat it during the week."

I nodded though there was nobody to see me doing so. I got my hands on the job and washed all dishes, cleaned the table, mopped the floor and placed away all traces of food that could be frozen. When all was done, I checked the big and old clock that stood on the wall next to the calendar, and saw that it was just 1.30 pm. I got to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my necessities before going back into my working schedule. At two o'clock I had Mrs. Bedford house to clean.

I rode in my car and parked just before her driveway. Raene Bedford was a widow, old lady that lived all by herself in a big, yet in needs of handiwork, house. I came to help her organize things twice at week, on Mondays and Thursdays. She was still full of energy but her body didn't allow her to do many things and with such a big house, she needed all the help she could get.

"Hello Mrs. Bedford," I greeted when I got to her porch. She was sitting in her old swing chair, drinking ice tea and reading some local magazine. "How are you today?"

"Oh darlin' I'm so glad you're here, I'm in one of my bad days. My legs hurt and I wanted to clean that darn closet on the guest room!" Mrs. Bedford made a face that only gave away her advanced age, as her eyes were covered in wrinkles.

"I can do that today and I'll clean the rest Thursday if you want."

"I wanted to help you darlin' you know, but if you don't mind then go ahead."

I nodded and entered the house, the guest room was almost never used. Only occasionally Mrs. Bedford's daughter came to visit her and even when she came from Tennessee, where she lived, she didn't stay longer than a couple of nights.

The closet though, was full of items Mrs. Bedford had kept and storage in there during her life and now she wanted to make a selection of things she really wanted and things she could throw or give away. Her daughter was pregnant and she was in the hopes that her grandchild would come around a lot to visit and stay with her.

I opened the closet and sighed, there were a lot of things indeed. I went to the kitchen to grab some plastic bags to separate everything so that Mrs. Bedford could pick what she wanted and what not.

I went about my day like that, after finish cleaning the closet I fetched my check from Mrs. Bedford and went to Carol Pellman – a teacher with three small kids that lived in the middle of chaos. She could probably use my help more than once a week but she couldn't afford it, so I tried to make the best out of the money she gave me when I was there and clean all I could manage. My last clients were the Abernathy, one of the richest families in town. They didn't like me that much due to my mother's reputation, they were elite and so they didn't feel well blending with my kind, but they still needed a cleaning woman and I was good at what I did, so they decided they could hire me anyways.

I was about to leave their house, one of the biggest and most splendid in River Walker, when Beau Abernathy walked in. He was the oldest son of Addison and Tyrell Abernathy, he had left that year for college and was, now, on vacations. Beau was a handsome, spoiled child but I knew deep down he had a good heart.

"Hey Ana," He greeted me, placating my exit from the kitchen. "How are you?"

"Good." I wasn't much for chit-chat but he was obviously waiting on me to say something. "How was college?"

The biggest grin split on his face, he was handsome indeed. Tall, broad-shoulders, athletic body, a messy blond hair and a promising future; Beau was the town most eligible bachelor. Only I wasn't near attracted to him.

"Great, I'm really enjoying it. I'm glad I'll be able to follow my dad's footsteps." He was indeed excited so I gave him a small smile though I'm sure that didn't reach my eyes. Fathers were a sore subject for me.

"I'm sure that's great."

"Yeah…" He smoothed his hair with his left hand an actually blush a little. "Do you… Want … Uhm… I mean… Do you have a date for the church gathering?"

I furrowed my brow. "I didn't know we were supposed to go with dates."

"We're not," Now he was fully blushing. "I was just wandering if maybe you wanted some company."

"Oh," I could almost blush myself at that proposal. In fact, I was sure to be blushing too. "I think its better not, I work for you and I'm sure your parents wouldn't agree to it."

"I don't care what my parents think."

"I don't think it's that easy but… thanks for asking." That was awkward for me too.

I didn't meet his eyes again, and instead I walked around his figure and went straight to the door. Once I got to my car I breathed in relief. That was something I wasn't expecting. Sure it was nice to be noticed and even asked to go out, but I wasn't sure if going on a date with Beau would make me very happy. It would make Gran thrilled that's for sure, but not me and most definitely not Addison and Tyrell Abernathy.

On my way home I made sure to drive by the River House, I slowed down when passing by it. I tried to peek through the high gates but I didn't get to see much. I saw some motion going on and some male bodies were pacing around quietly but more than that, I didn't see.

I thought what it would be like to work in a household like that. Could my Gran be right? Could it be best for me? We could definitely need some extra money but I wasn't ready to leave my carefully build life for some job I wasn't sure I needed or wanted.

I shook my head, no, it was best to keep things as they were. The money shouldn't be that much for starts, I was a maid after all.

I was just getting home when one thick and black cloud of smoke interrupted me from my sight. My heart began to race in my chest and I walked out of the car immediately, running towards my house. The smell made my insides clench. There was smoke coming out of the back and the horrible sound of fire echoed through my head. My kitchen was burning.

I fought back the tears, "Gran!" I called as loud as I could. "Gran!"

I heard some noise from inside the house and without giving it a second though I hopped inside, covering my face with a cloth I had in my cleaning supplies. "Gran!" I kept shouting, trying to locate where the noise came from.

I heard it again and it was coming from her own room, it was in the back of the house, close to the kitchen which was now on fire. I didn't give thought to my actions because in my mind it only made sense for me to go out there and save my Gran regardless of the burning room I had next to me.

I kept walking, my eyes like two slits trying to perceive any figure that I could identify as my grandmother. Finally I managed to enter the room; she was there, trying to open her window. I run towards it and tried to open it myself. _Damn, the crooked window_.

I looked around, trying to see another way out but there wasn't any, the flames were now on the hallway and the only solutions was to pass by that damned window. I tried harder but it wasn't moving.

"Oh honey," My Gran cried. I fought my tears once again, _it wasn't the time_, I told myself.

I closed my eyes and inhaled again, damned me if I'd let some stupid fire get my Gran. I'd lost my mother once, I wasn't going to loose my grandmother too. I sucked all air my lungs could bare, even though I shouldn't breathe that smoky thing anyway. I tried opening it again, all my forces put into that gesture. I was sweating everywhere but after a helpless moment, I manage to move the frame and not long after that the window flew open.

Relief washed through me but soon I recovered, it wasn't done yet. I tried to carry Gran with me but it was impossible for the both of us to pass at the same time. "I need to go first to be able to pull you afterwards!" I shouted, unsure if she could hear me. Gran looked weaker as the seconds went by.

"Okay, you go out honey. Get out of here."

I shook my head; I hoped she wasn't thinking I'd ever leave her there. But I did what was told and hopped out of the room and onto the backyard. "Come now Gran, I'll hold you."

Gran nodded and try to lift her body but she wasn't strong as she had been and the smoky oxygen she had inhaled wasn't helping the matter. I stretched my arms and pull her along, I only lifted her a bit but I held steady. I inhaled deeply again and made force to move her a little bit more. I managed to do that too, but a loud creak made us both jump. The roof in the kitchen had fallen.

"Go honey, go," Gran pleaded me with teary eyes. "Get out of here!"

"No!" I resumed to my task of lifting her from the other side of the window.

"The fire is close honey, go!" Gran shouted again, her voice weak.

"Shut up!" I yelled too, I wasn't one to disrespect my Gran – out of all people – but now was one of those occasions where she wasn't being helpful.

I tried and tried, until finally, in one last effort and after noticing my Gran had passed out, I picked her up and pulled her out. I was weak as well, but it wasn't time to thing about that. So trembling, I brought my Gran to the front of the house as quick as I could manage.

I laid her on the grass, on her side to help the blood run and the oxygen entry. The firemen were already there, running to my kitchen with the fire-hose in hand. An ambulance was there too and once the paramedic saw the both of us they began running as well.

"Are you okay miss?" Somebody asked me.

I nodded but wasn't able to form coherent phrases. "My Gran, she…"

"We'll take care of her, don't worry," Indeed there were a pair of people, picking her up and putting her in a mace. "Now, are you okay?"

"Yes," I was still weak and my voice showed it but I didn't want to go to the hospital nor could I afford it, so I coughed and tried again, more firmly. "I'm fine."

"Let me take a look at you anyway."

"No, I'm good. Just a little tired."

The paramedic eyed me suspiciously but didn't force farther. The Sheriff was coming on at the moment so that ceased the conversation.

"Ana," He said sternly. "What happened?"

"My kitchen burned."

"I see that. What I want to know is why."

"Don't know, I was just getting home from work when I saw smoke coming out from the back."

"And Grace was in the house?"

"Yes."

"And you decided to get in and get her?"

I didn't like his tone, that's for sure. "Yes."

"Why didn't you call the firefighters?"

"Because I needed to take Gran out of the house first, that was more important."

"You could have killed both of you."

"No, the fire could have killed both of us. It wasn't me who set it."

Sheriff Thibodeaux snorted but dropped that subject. "And when you arrived that's all you saw? Smoke?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I need you to come to the station tomorrow to get your statement."

"Okay, I have time during lunch." I wasn't going to miss my work.

"That's fine."

And with that he walked away. I sighed and fought the tears once again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I got out from the shower, a towel rapped around my torso. I walked to the mirror and eyed me calmly, my tan was vanishing away and my skin was showing my pale tone, my eyes had dark bags under them and my hair was one big mess after all the washing I had to do, just to take the smoke out of it.

I allowed myself to cry then; it was a terrible thing to happen. The back of my house was burned down, my Gran was in the hospital recovering and we had no money to build things again. It was a bad, bad time for disasters.

After all sadness exited my body, I freshened up. I was thinking and thinking hard. Perhaps now was a good time to call that new family in the River House. I had asked Gran for their number, she avidly gave me once she woke up. If they paid well it may be what we needed after all.

I walked to my room, I had a old phone there. I avoid looking at my burned kitchen, it was a sad sight. I exhaled hard and picked up the phone. I was afraid to mark the numbers but forced myself to do it anyway.

It ringed long before someone picked it up. I was about to give up when a sudden, deep and hoarse voice spoke through the line.

"Christian Grigio." A male said with a thick Italian accent. Somehow my insides twisted. I held back a breath. Damn this velvety, sexy voice.

"Uhm… Hello?" My voice was just a whisper. "Is this from the Grigio house?" _What the fuck Ana?!_ He just said he was a fucking Grigio, obviously it is from his house. I was too nervous to make sense.

"Yes." He said impatiently. I didn't blame him, I was being a retarded.

"Well… I'm Anastasia Steele, I… I was wondering if you still are looking for a maid…?" It was suppose to be an affirmation but it sounded more like an awkward question.

"Yes." He answered again and silence fell upon the line.

"I wanted to apply for the job." I said after a while.

"Pass here tomorrow at four o'clock for an interview." His tone was decisive and left no space for doubting.

"Okay. I'll be there."

"Good." He spoke in the same tone that made my stomach twist and burn with something I couldn't identify.

Just like that he hung up the phone. I stared at the machine for a very long time.

I had a job interview tomorrow.

I had a job interview tomorrow, in the River House for an Italian family I'd never seen.

I sighed and remembered I needed to call Mrs. Landry to tell I'd be a little late for my work the next day. I was too tired, so I brushed my teeth and pull some t-shirt over my body, not bothering to wear anything else.

I laid in bed thinking about what had happened, about the unknown Grigio family, about my Gran and my current job. For some reason I thought of Beau's invitation and for some even weirder reason, I start imagining how this Christian would look like.

I shook my head, my hair still wet. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you all for reading, and commenting and following. I'll try to answer every review individually and try to post as soon as possible, always.

(p.s. this may have some/many mistakes because I didn't have time to give it a thorough review, but I'll do it very soon.)

* * *

**2.**

My head hurt, a flush of light made my irises burn and I closed my eyelids tightly to stop the impertinent sunrays from making me blind. Reluctantly I opened them, a slow motion that allowed my body to adjust to the tiresome daytime. A shrilling noise echoed along the space and for a long time I wasn't able to identify it. My brain was too fatigued. I jerked up in bed once I associated the annoying sound to my old telephone. I extended my arm to pick it up at once, an awkward move to make due to the position of my bed. Finally, I managed to grab it.

"Yes?" I asked breathy, both from the sudden awake and from the effort I placed in that move.

"Miss Steele?" A youngish female voice asked, tacitly.

"Yes."

"This is from River Walker Hospital, I'm calling to let you know that Mrs. Grace Steele is being discharged this morning. Do you care to come pick her up?"

Hastily looking at the clock, I saw that I still had some time before my first cleaning – if I was quick on my morning tasks. "Yes, I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Okay, I'll get on with the paper work then."

"Thank you." I said honestly before hanging up. It was a relief if I could get there and not have to deal with the troubles of reviewing and signing a dozen of medical charges, over and over again.

I sighed with some happiness. My Gran was okay and that was all I could ask, and all that really matter in the end. Sure, we had suffered great losses – a kitchen was a crucial thing – and I was still thinking through on how we were going to overcome that, as quickly as possible, but one step at the time. I got up from bed, immediately, as I didn't have much time to shower, dress, have breakfast and go to the hospital. I estimated it would take at least twenty-minutes and was rather pleased when I glanced at my clock, when I was just about to leave, and confirmed that, indeed, I had only taken twenty-minutes to get it all done.

I stepped outside and got welcomed by a very hot breeze, summer was getting at its fullest and I silently appreciated my shorts and t-shirt outfit. It wasn't much elaborated but it was comfortable and seeing the day of work ahead of me, I was all but keen on keeping my well-fare. Plus, it gave me all dynamic I needed to do the cleaning tasks I had to.

I entered my car and ease out of the house without looking again at my destroyed backside. I still wasn't ready to face the facts. It was too much damage in too little time and I was having trouble cooping with that. Perhaps Gran's presence would ease things, she always knew how to act to make things fine again.

The drive to the River Walker Hospital took about ten minutes, it wasn't next to my house but it wasn't awfully distant either. I guess that's one of the perks of living in a small town – everything's close to you, somehow.

I filled my stack of legal documents at the reception, undertaking me for the exit of my Gran. I was all but glad to oblige to that particular responsibility, if anyone would take care of my grandmother it would be me. It didn't take long before she got out from one of the elevators, pushed by some plump, smiley nurse that waved at me from across the room.

"Hello," She greeted once she got close. She was overly happy, though it appeared it wasn't with anything in particular, just life in general. I cringed inside for some unknown reason. "I'm Marcy Landsy. I was Mrs. Steele's nurse. I believe I spoke to you on the phone."

It was obviously a statement, yet it sounded like a question. I felt complied to answer, just because I didn't want my Gran to think she raised a social handicap. "Yes, I believe so."

"You're both very lucky, to get unharmed out of a situation like that."

"We are," Gran nodded religiously. Her hair braided and tugged aside, hugging her own neck. "I thank God for that! But if I'm here now," Tears began to shine in her eyes and I knew what was coming. "Is all due to my granddaughter's braveness."

I shifted uncomfortably, I had clients to attend to and I didn't deal well with public praising. "Such courage," The nurse conceded eyeing me from head to toe, perhaps evaluating my strength or perhaps my stupidity. "I'm sure you're very proud."

"Oh!" Gran's eyes beamed with pride indeed, she rubbed her hands kindly in her lap. "Can't even begin to tell you how much."

"I imagine. It is very fortunate of you, having someone that cares so much for you."

I saw tears prickled at her sight again, so I decided to cut in. "Are you good to walk or should I ride the wheelchair to the car?"

"I'm good, I'm good." Gran answered automatically, snapping out of her trance.

"Are you sure Adele?" Marcy asked dubiously.

"Absolutely!" Gran beamed. Indeed she was right.

I held my hand for Gran to take and she avidly did so. We were about to walk away when Marcy Landsy came to my side and whispered in my ear. "I'll go by your house sometime along the week, just to make sure Adele's really fine."

I nodded, I wasn't sure Gran had listened and perhaps that was the best. If she did, she would have refuted the need for such thing. We walked out of the building, hand in hand. I relished on the fact that my grandmother was fine, walking and breathing, by my side.

"How are you?" I asked once we hopped in the car.

"Just a little shaken," Gran admitted.

"Me too." I shared. Might was well tell the truth, since there's no point in denying and no good in lying.

"Did you get to call the River House folks?" I knew the question was coming along; Gran would never let that slide through.

I sighed but kept my eyes on the road, my hands clenched tighter on the steering wheel. If Gran noticed my stiffness, she didn't share. "Yes."

For a moment we drove silently but when we were closer to our house, Gran didn't seem to be able to hold on anymore. I knew she was too curious to let it slip. "So?" She was being tactful in her questions, afraid I'd refuse to answer if she was too direct.

"I have an interview today. At four."

Gran couldn't help but clap her hands excitedly. I didn't join in, but didn't make any comments either. "That's good!" She smoothed her hair, so much she wanted to know. "Whom did you spoke with?"

"I don't remember." Yes, I do. It was that damned Italian accented man with that damned hoarse voice that made my insides twist.

"Oh…" Disappointment was all written in Gran's features, her shoulders dropped and she eyed depressingly the entry as we made our way to the house.

"Some Christian Grigio fella, I think." I said, after not being able to stand Gran's sadness anymore.

"Ah!" And she fell silent for a moment. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth in a thin line. I knew she was in deep thought, so I let her be. We entered the house, and only after placing on the couch the little bag I had taken her to the hospital the night before, she continued. "I wonder what he's like." Me too, I felt like saying but I hold my tongue and made no comments.

After that, we visited the kitchen, it was the first time I was seeing it and I had to held my breath to prevent the sobs from coming out. Half of the space was resumed to ashes, while the rest still had its shapes but was simply burnt. It was completely covered in blackness, that kind of rusty, smelly blackness that indicates the thing was burned.

We travelled the room, evaluating the damages. Gran's room was in bad shape too, but it would only need some minors works and a thorough clean. I could do both in my weekends, that way we'd be able to save some money for more urgent things. For now Gran would stay in the guest room, in the second story of the house. It was never used, since we had no greater visitors and it was just across the hall from mine.

Glancing at my wrist I saw it was time to get going so I gathered all supplies I needed because I'd be cleaning Mrs. Jenkins's house and she didn't like to give me her own products. I didn't mind though, obviously I'd charge more for having to buy my own supplies but that didn't seem to bother her, so it shouldn't bother me too. Before getting out of the house I called Cleveland, he had a construction business and took care of town's houses reconstructions. His crew would pass by any moment during the day, so I told Gran that and left the house.

That was going to be a huge blow on our budget but what else could we do? We certainly couldn't live without a kitchen. I arrived to Mrs. Jenkins house just on time and sighed relieved before going in, I hated being late for work and a lot of people in town – that meant most of my clients – didn't like me that much and were just expecting some mistake on my part to make my life hell. I never gave them the chance.

"Good morning," I greeted, without any kind of smile. I was greeted the same way and that was that.

My morning passed in a blink of an eye, I did my choruses with a great amount of speed. I did them well but my mind was too preoccupied to notice anything else around me. I was thinking about the costs of having my kitchen renewed, the trouble that it would take us to live without a proper place to eat and cook during that time, the concerns my Gran would face and the fear I had of having my whole life altered.

I stepped out of Mr. Pellman house, my last client of the morning, and the weather just seemed to get warmer and warmer. I was drenched in sweat but time was precious and I still needed to go down to the police station to get my statement done. That was an annoying thing that I'd most gladly dismiss, but I had promised Sheriff Thibodeaux I'd pass there and I really wanted to make sure I'd get everything straight, so I could file for my house insurance.

I drive there, fanning me along the way and trying to keep the biggest drops of sweat out of my face. There were a couple of patrolmen hanging out at the front of the police station, with hot coffee on their hands. I shrugged, who would want anything hot with this weather? I nodded in acknowledgement of their presence and entered the station on my own.

"Hi Amina," I smiled. Amina Haywood was one of the few women I could consider as my… well, she wasn't really a friend but she wasn't just an acquaintance as well, so she was something in-between. She was nice enough and never tried to make any sneered comments about me or my mother. "I'm here to give my statement, who should I talk to?"

Amina casted her round-eyes up and saw me, she smiled greatly too and scanned something in her old computer. She worked as a clerk in the police department. "Is it because of the fire that was set in your kitchen, yesterday?"

I nodded slowly, yes it was because of that. She held sympathy in her eyes and normally I'd be repulse by it, but she didn't mean it in a pitiful way, she was just concerned. That almost made me overstep what she said.

"The Sheriff's here, he's in…"

"Wait," I held my hand in the air aggressively. Not that I was mad at her, but I just needed to make sure I heard correctly. "Did you say the fire was set?"

"I… Well…" Amina blushed, profusely. She glanced around trying to avoid my stare. "Did I say that?" Her voice was high-pitched and she tried to laugh but it came out forced and awkward.

"Amina, please," I wasn't one for begging but at this moment, I'd do whatever necessary. "If that is true I need to know."

"I don't know anything." She kept avoiding my eyes and I kept growing desperate.

"My grandmother was in the house, Amina. Please."

"Oh… Well, I don't know much and I wasn't even supposed to know this," She came forward through the balcony so I leaned in a bit as well. Her voice was low and I knew she learned this from her lover, who was a young policeman who shouldn't share any confidential information with her. "But so far, all indicates that it was arson. They're still investigating everything but that's the probable situation, your gas was turned off and there wasn't anything on that could have caused a fire."

I nodded all the way, my heart drummed frenetically on my chest and it was hard for me to hear everything she was saying with all the blood rushing in my ears. I gulped but didn't say anything at all. The two patrolmen entered the station and Amina looked very uneasy at me, afraid I'd do or say something I shouldn't.

"Thanks Amina, I appreciate that. Why don't you stop by sometime and we'll see what I can do." I raised my voice so that the men wouldn't get suspicious. Amina smiled once she caught on my act and nodded avidly at me.

"Yes, I will."

"Okay. So should I go to the Sheriff's office now?"

"Yes, it's the last door on the hall."

I nodded too and tried to thank her again, telepathically. If that was true, I… I didn't know what to think much less do. Now, I was nervous at my encounter with Sheriff Thibodeaux. I straighten my spine, inhaled deeply and exhaled hard. This was it.

I knocked. "Come in," I heard the male voice from inside alluring me in. I obeyed.

"Hello." I complied once I stepped into his office. A large window gave view to the downtown and illuminated great deal of the room. Everything was neat and clean, and full of stacks of papers, files and reports. Sheriff Thibodeaux looked up from the computer in his front and motioned me to sit.

I arranged myself as comfortably as possible, but the chair didn't allow much comfort at all. I guess it was in the police best interest to have their witnesses and/or possible suspects in a little discomfort in order to make them uneasy.

"Good afternoon, Miss Steele." Jacob said dramatically, there was no need for formalities but I guess he felt better doing so, we were in his work place after all and this was his job. I nodded to his greeting. "Well, let's start then. You'll have the statement ready to sign it soon after you give it."

"Okay."

For a long time, or a least it felt so to me, we stayed there analyzing every move I had made the previous afternoon. The Sheriff was notoriously cautious taking note of the names of my clients, just to make sure I was really there during the time being. I had nothing to hide but it kept bothering me the possibility that someone may have done that on propose.

After signing everything, Jacob Thibodeaux seemed pleased enough with my testimony. I knew that deep down he had the hopes of finding me behind all this, but after a more careful examination, there was no hole in my story. I was about to leave, when out of the blue, my body decided to act alone without the previous consent of my brain.

"Is it possible that it was arson?" My hand was already in the door knob but my conscious didn't seem to let that one slide.

The Sheriff's eyes widen, I had caught him off guard. "That's what we're trying to find out." He said in a final voice. He didn't want to debate it but I wasn't going to anyhow, his reaction had said enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I sat on my couch with a plastic plate on my hands, Gran and I were having our lunch. After leaving the police station I felt incredibly shaken but slowly I was recovering. If, indeed, someone had tried to set my house on fire with my own grandmother inside, I needed to figure out whom.

"Who brought this?" I asked eyeing the salad closely. It looked good but with my hunger I was sure that everything would appear delicious.

"Betty," Gran said adjusting herself in the sofa. "Willie Mae, Raene, Carly and Mary Frances have already stopped by. They left a lot of food, we're good for a least a week."

I nodded. Once I got home, we asked the construction workers to carry an old refrigerator arc to the hallway. It was lying in the attic and we never threw it away because we thought that someday it may prove to be helpful. Well, now was the day. We were using it to store the food Gran's friends had brought us. I was appreciative of the gesture as it would be impossible to cook things any other way.

"That's good." Willie Mae had a lot of home appliance's devices she would store, so when she brought the food she was kind enough to provide us of an old microwave. We were good for a week's period, it seemed.

"Yes, yes…" Gran was a little absent but I figured that was natural.

"Look, Gran, there's a question I need to ask you…"

"Okay honey, you know you can ask whatever."

"Have you…" I paused for a minute to think how to rephrase my question. "Did you hear something when you were home, before the fire?"

"Something?" Gran's brows raised, she wasn't following but I didn't want to tell her my worries. At least not right now.

"Yeah… Did you hear some motion going on, just before the fire started?"

Gran's retrieved to thought for a moment, her index finger pressed against her thin lips. "I can't recall anything honey, why?"

"Curiosity. Gran, is the house in your name?"

"Oh yes, it is. But you know I'll leave it all for you Ana, if that's your concern."

"It is not, I just wanted to know. If it wasn't for me, would anyone else have it?"

"Well, I guess your uncle Dermont, since he is my brother."

"Is uncle Dermont still in town?"

"He left for Shreveport some while ago, in some businesses he had. I can't recall if he's here now." Gran eyed me suspiciously. I couldn't tell her all but I knew she doubted the innocence of my questions. "Why do you care?"

"I may do him a visit some day…" My voice was distant because I was absent in deep musings. I really would pay my great-uncle a visit, just to make some things clear.

After our meal I looked at our dishes inquisitively, Gran read my thoughts and promptly got on her feet. She told me she would wash our plates on the bathroom and I would oppose to it and do it myself but time was short since I had gone to the police station, so reluctantly, I agreed and went out the door.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I was making Mr. Cotten bed, it was a single bed. He was sleeping in his own guest room because he said that after his wife's death he couldn't deal with their old, big, empty mattress but couldn't bring himself to change the main room's disposition either. He was a nice man, not very old but obviously very sentimental.

He was in his small office reading the newspapers, the only thing he did religiously for two decades straight and that could never be changed or interrupted. I had already cleaned the kitchen, the living room and the bathroom. I was changing his sheets and after that, I'd only give a little way to his office and leave. That meant I was so absorbed with thoughts that I didn't hear the noises at first.

Something echoed through the walls again and this time I lifted my head in wariness. Mr. Cotten was surely on his office and he'd never leave until his newspapers were all read, throughout I may add. So there was no way those steps belonged to him. Also, he had no children and certainly wasn't expecting any visitors. I frowned and stop still.

Another lance of steps was climbed, and I could hear the steps clearly by then. I moved as silently as I could towards the door and stood there, waiting. There was quietness for a moment and movement afterwards. Again, slow, deliberated steps on the hall. Whoever this person was, it didn't want to be seen nor heard.

I looked around hastily; if this was a robber I needed some kind of weapon. The only thing I found that could actually make some damage was an iron lamp, Mr. Cotten had on his nightstand. I picked it up, my heart was racing and for a moment I thought this person might be able to hear it. For some strange reason, hiding never came to my mind. I was too hipped up on anger from knowing somebody had set fire to my kitchen to let this felony skip.

I turned the door knob slightly and took cautious steps towards the entrance, I breathed in as hard as possible and place myself on my side – somehow all cops shows shown that you needed to put yourself in that position if you ever wish to surprise and attack an assaulter from behind a door. Indeed I managed to surprise whoever it was there. I opened the door at once and swung my weapon in the air and in the hopes of getting to the robber.

A loud impact noise resounded through the space, I had gotten him. I screamed for help but wasn't sure if Mr. Cotten would actually hear me. The dark figure stood in the shadows, it was a male – medium height and weight, all dressed in black. He had some kind of mask that didn't allow me to see his features. He knelt when I hit him with the lamp but the blow wasn't strong enough because he quickly recovered and jumped right at me.

Again I screamed but his body was much stronger than mine and he knocked me down at once. He tried to cover my mouth but I bitted it as hard as I could and with a low yelp he let go of it. Instead, and incredibly more efficiently in the matter of shutting me up, he punched me in the face. I tried to kick him in every place available and I swung my fists everywhere, I got hold of him once or twice but that didn't seem to faze him at all.

We heard some steps coming out from the other side of the house and that distracted my opponent so as quickly as I could manage – since my head was still a little groggy from the wrestling – I got hold of that lost iron lamp. I grabbed it tightly and held it high in the air, with one swift blow I hit the assaulter on the head.

He stumbled back and let go of his hold on me, I was ready to strike again but he was fast and in a matter of seconds, he pushed me hard and began to run towards the stairs again. He was leaving and I was too tired to run after him – not that I'd do that, after all the effort I'd already made.

I laid back on the floor and stood still until Mr. Cotten came rushing in, waving frenetically his arms, shouting about a black-dressed man who was escaping his house and about his immediate call to the police. Still, I didn't get up. I was too shaken, those had been too many emotions to have in a single day. My life was always regular and quiet, a fixed timetable and an ordinary and repetitive routine that gave me enough control over my own decisions and actions.

Now, everything was crumbling. My house was burned purposefully and I had no way of knowing who did it, my clients were being robbed and I was attacking their assaulters, a new job opportunity was raising and proving to be much needed. I sighed and only when the police came, asking me about everything that happened, I got up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I was sick of the police, I was sick of having to give my testimony, I was sick of crimes. And now, I was walking towards the big entrance of the River House, with my head still numb, my feelings still tore and my body still exhausted. Looking down at me I got surprised at not being sent away by the security guys at the entrance. I'd understand if they didn't allow me to get in, this house appeared to immaculate and I was far from spotless myself.

My t-shirt had stains all over, a bit of blood stood there – if it was mine or the robbers, I couldn't know – my legs were covered with small cuts from my wrestling match, I was sweating all over since this was the outfit I'd left the house with, my hair was disgustingly messed-up and my face was bruised. I didn't know exactly what I looked like, but I didn't look good, that's for sure.

I was taking the last steps towards the big, dark-wooden entrance when the door flung open. A small, plumped man with gray hair and severe features looked me up and down inquisitively. I could almost see the snarl form in his lips but he abstained himself from any observation.

"Are you Miss Anastasia Steele?" For his credit, he was being very polite. He didn't seem nor sound Italian though. For some reason I was relieved that he wasn't Christian Grigio.

"Yes," I said meekly. I coughed and straighten my spine, I needed more determination, so I answered him again. "Yes."

"And you're here for the maid position?" He was making small and tactful questions, just to make sure I wasn't joking with him. I didn't found that surprising.

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll see if Mr. Grigio is available. Please come."

I follow his lead; he brought me to a large room that stood next to one of the offices the house had. It was a big room with arched windows that allowed the view of the backyard, thick wine-colored drapes, book-covered shelves, comfortable but rather expensive looking chairs, marble statutes and exquisitely beautiful paintings on the walls. I absorbed all at once, I had seen everything already. In fact, I had cleaned it.

The man motion me to sit, but I hesitated. I was too dirty to do that, and certainly I didn't wish to make any messes. I hadn't had the time to go home an exchange my clothes, in fact, I was already late for my interview and I simply hated that.

I hang around the room for a while; I paced and analyzed the works of art, I wondered and thought to myself and I grew aggravated at the waiting. I guess I deserved that since I had kept them waiting for me twenty-minutes, also. But still, it wasn't nice and I was too skittish to be comfortable. Finally, after what felt like hours, the same man who had opened the door for me came rushing from the inside of the office.

"Mr. Grigio will receive you. You may come," It sounded a lot like he was doing me some kind of favor by accepting to see me and that made my blood boil. We had an appointment so this shouldn't be any kind of favor.

I clenched my hands in tiny fists, but nodded nonetheless. I followed his steps and entered the big office I was already acquainted with. I had cleaned this all by myself, once. I stood quietly on the door; the short man that escorted me planted himself on my right side and allowed me to absorb not only the decorations, but the crowd that hanged there. They all looked warily at me.

My anger fleeted and suddenly, I was very nervous. There were at least seven men inside that office and they all looked perfectly tailored and cleaned-cut, they wore rather expensive suits, the kind I could never afford on my cleaning woman's salary. The age range diverged but, incredibly, they were all handsome. I could tell which ones were Italians and which not. Not that the Italians had a sign over their heads but their posture just accused their foreigner costumes.

I looked around, nodding and acknowledging every person. I didn't want to stare at them and make them uncomfortable but I couldn't afford to appear rude either. My sight followed a straight line and finally arrived to the end of the room, where a big, dark and powerful desk stood. Behind it, there were gorgeous windows with a magnificent view of the river, and between the wood and the glass stood a figure, an intriguing and entrancing figure that made my heart pound faster.

_Christian Grigio_. No one said a name, but somehow I just knew it was him. I gulped rather loudly, but luckily – and given my circumstances – my involuntary noise could be attributed to my nerves rather than my libido. I tried to breath but it seemed all air had disappeared from that damned office.

He was casually sitting there, his hands resting of top of the desk, his suit-jacket unbuttoned showing a rather spotless white-shirt that contrasted with his olive colored skin. His hair wasn't very long but it was big enough to be wild, and his eyes… _damn._ There were no fair were to describe them.

"Anastasia Steele?" He asked after a while. Yep, that was the same voice I've heard. I nodded, unable to form coherent sentences. "You're late."

I nodded again until I realized he probably wished to have an explanation. "I had some… inconveniences happening this afternoon. I apologize."

He raised his dark brow, there was a deadly silence on the room. I gulped again. "Have you never heard… how do you say? Time is money… yes?" Some man who stood stoically next to him nodded, confirming the veracity of the expression. "Well then, my time truly means money Miss Steele. It does not cause a good impression to arrive almost half and hour late to your job interview. Do you not agree?"

_It's just twenty-minutes_, I wished to say so but I bitted my cheek. That would do no good and it would only make me look like a petulant child. I don't like to explain myself to anyone, especially to people I've just laid eyes on, but in this situation, it was required.

"There was an unexpected occurrence. I work, I clean for a living and before coming here I was at Mr. Cotten house, he's one of my clients. I would have arrived on time if everything went normally but his house suffered an assault. Well, I guess that never got to happen but a robber did try to enter it."

Christian kept his brow raised and for a moment I wondered how long he could keep that up, but then I shook my head. Silly, nervous thoughts. He motioned with his hands for a further explanation. Silence was still hovering the room, thicker as ever. _Geez, tough crowd_.

"Police was obviously involved, and I had to stick around for statements and all because I was the one who caught the man."

"You caught the man?"

"I was cleaning a room when I heard some steps, I figured it would be impossible to be a visitor so it could only be some kind of thief."

"And you called the police?"

"I didn't have a phone at hand, at the moment. I grabbed an iron lamp and tried to strike him."

"You fought an assaulter?" Christian's eyes widen and almost popped out of their orbits. Everyone turned to face me with shocked expressions.

I got hesitant with the reaction. "Yes… I did. I wasn't very successful though, he managed to escape."

"I can tell." He eyed cautiously every wound I had and I flinched inside under his examiner stare. "Why?"

I blinked a couple of times, my brain failing to make the connection. "Why?" I echoed his words in doubt. Christian blinked too and adjusted himself on the seat. He prompted his elbows on the desk, his look all business-like.

"Why did you decide to attack the assaulter?"

I stared at him, a bit disbelieved. Okay, I got that it was stupid and perhaps not my most intelligent course of action but I thought the reasons were pretty obvious. "I couldn't let him steal something from my client while I was there." I looked around trying to see if it made sense to anyone. "Mr. Cotten is a good man." I added as if that would explain all.

If appears that it didn't, because they still looked at me as if I'd grown two heads. I shifted on my feet, I was really getting uncomfortable and my back hurt from my previous wrestling match. I was in desperate need of a good rest and some cozy clothes. Christian must have read my thoughts because he cleared his throat, spoke something understandable to me – probably in Italian – and four guys got up from their seat to leave. The others picked the cue and very hastily got up too.

Everyone left the room, nodding me on the passage. I was too dumfounded to nod as well so I kept looking straight head of me, straight into Christian Grigio's silver irises. I was glued on the spot, I tried to move my muscles but they didn't seem able to react.

"Please, sit." Christian motioned me to get closer. My body wasn't agreeable on that instruction so it took me a minute too long to obey his command. He didn't say anything else but his gaze didn't left room for any kind of rebellion.

After a while, I did what was told. I walked slowly, afraid to stumble if I was too fast. I sat on the chair just ahead of him but I grew uncomfortable looking him straight in the eyes, so I tried to advert my gaze any place else in the room. "So Miss Steele," Christian took a file from under his desk and opened it in his front. "What do you do for a leaving?"

I eyed him quizzically. I thought I've already told him that but perhaps he was slow in the brain department. "I clean houses."

He nodded as if the answer was pretty obvious. I guess that was just some interviewing procedure, after all. "How long?"

"For almost six years."

"And how old are you?" Christian looked at me dubiously, I got what he was thinking. I probably appeared too young to work for so long but giving the fact that both me and my grandmother didn't have much to live by, I was forced to work part-time at weekends and holidays since I came to live with her.

"Twenty-one, I began my work as a teen." I was keen on answering just exactly what was asked of me but then again, if I wanted the job, maybe I needed to put a little more effort into it. I had already caused a bad impression with my lateness.

Again, a nod. "I see." He tapped the desk with his long finger and analyzed intently what I deduced to be my file. I got a preoccupied, where on the hell had he found all those informations about me? I frown to myself but that didn't seem to faze him. "You live with your grandmother, yes?" I nodded silently. "Where?"

I had a feeling he already had all the answers for those questions, yet he thought it was best to ask them anyway, probably to check if I told the truth. If he expected me to lie, then he was deadly wrong.

"Just on the end of the Hummingbird Road, before the cemetery, close to the river, it's an old farmhouse."

"Is it a family house?"

"Yes, it's in my family since the foundation of the town."

"What happened to your parents?"

I froze, this questions where bringing a bitter flavor to my mouth. I wished I didn't have to answer that and I was just about to tell him that I felt those matters weren't his business, but that I refrained myself from it. If the Grigio were an important, prominent Italian family, it was normal to do a thorough background check on their employees. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a few seconds and inhaled softly.

"My mother died when I was young, we lived in New Orleans. I had no one else there, so I came to live with my grandmother."

"Why not your father? He lives in town as well."

"We don't have good relations."

"Why?"

I had to draw a line here, this was too much. "Those are personal matters."

"I see," Christian was looking intently at me. I knew then, that he was used to have everyone telling whatever he wanted to know. He didn't push the matter though. "Is it true that your house suffered a fire?"

"Yes, it happened yesterday."

"News travel fast everywhere," Christian mused. "I am sorry to hear. Is it true that you entered the house to get your grandmother?"

"Yes it is." Again with those questions. Again with the odd, shocked expressions. I didn't get it.

"Were you not afraid?"

"I was, I was afraid my Gran would be in there and I couldn't help her out."

"But not afraid for yourself?" Christian's brows furrowed as if he was defying me to tell him the truth.

"No, I didn't have the time to think about it. My Gran was my priority."

Now his expression changed, something flickered in his eyes. He leaned closer in the desk. "Why?"

Again, I didn't get it. To me it was obvious, more than so. I would never think twice about saving my grandmother, so I stated simply, "She is my grandmother."

She is my Gran, my second mother, the woman that kept me and raised me as if I was her own child. The woman that took care of me, who supported me, who made me hot soup when I was sick, who confided in me, who heard my problems, who braided my hair, who loved me unconditionally above everything else. She was my best friend in the world. I would enter every building on fire to get her without a blink of an eye and if Christian Grigio couldn't get that, then I couldn't do anything for him.

He looked me deadly in the eyes, and nodded. This time around, his nod was firm as if he got my explanation entirely. I nodded as well and for a moment, I thought we were being rather weird with all the head bobbing. A giggle tried to escape my lips when I pictured us having a conversation with head motions, but I managed to stifle it quietly.

"So you're a life savior and a crime preventer. Those are valuable traits to have…"

"No," I whispered abruptly. I wasn't some kind of heroine.

"No," Christian repeated too, measuring his words. "You're dedicated to your family and loyal to your obligations. Those are even more valuable traits. If you're whiling, I'd like to give you a try."

I widen my eyes, _just like that?_ "To… to work here?"

"Yes."

"But… I don't know the conditions yet."

He looked at me as if I was a fool for not accepting at once, but after another quick analyze of my files, he spoke softly. "Of course, well… You'd work from early in the morning to dawn, on Sundays you were discharged of any work, you'd have a day off in the middle of the week. I won't offer wealth insurance but any medical expenses you'd need, we would take care of it. You can have lunch in here and while you're kitchen isn't renewed it is okay for you and your grandmother to dine as well."

I blinked, those conditions seemed fine to me. He scribbled on a piece of paper and dedicatedly placed it in my front. My eyes bugged out of their holes. "This much?" I questioned with an unnerving high-pitched voice.

He smiled, and my breath got lost somewhere in the middle of the space. He was gorgeous. Probably the best looking male I had ever seen in my life. His teeth were painfully white and incredibly straight, his lips were lusciously full and sinfully red. I took a sharp breath.

"I need to know if… if you're staying here long. I can't give up my life sustenance for a job that will only last one summer."

Christian smile redraw from his face, I almost wanted to take back my words because of it, but I couldn't back down. I needed to know those things, it was my life that was at stake.

"Those concerns are valid, and I understand and respect them. Unfortunately, I can't tell you that much. I can promise you, though, that regardless of how much time we stay here, whenever we leave, you'll be absolutely well compensated for your troubles."

I frown, that was vague but perhaps that was as good as I was gonna get. Surely this was all too fast for me, but the amount of money I'd receive would allow me to pay for the kitchen and not suffer any major blow in the family budget and it would even help me to fix other problems my house had. I needed time to think.

"Can that be specified, clearly, on my contract?" I asked boldly. I needed physical assurances after all.

Christian chuckled, startling me, his laugh was heartily and it filled the entire room. I almost felt the urge to smile myself. "I like a person who takes precautions, it means you're smart and that's crucial. Yes, that will come specifically on the contract."

"Okay." I was sure there were another thousand things I should tell or ask, yet nothing came to my mind.

"When can you start?"

"I need time to think." I blurted out, it was too much pressure to decided life-changes on the spot. "Plus, even if I accept it, I need time to tell my clients I won't be working for them anymore."

Christian reclined on his chair, thinking. For a long moment he said nothing, I was feeling the pressure cracking my knuckles so I began fidgeting on my seat, sweating even more. After what felt like millenniums, he spoke. "You won't be doing just cleaning here, you'd be serving meals and attending whatever tasks are needed. I can see you need time to adjust. You have until Sunday to decide."

He said no more, and he didn't need to either. His words were final, and even if they weren't so strong, his tone of voice would leave no doubt behind. He was a very powerful man, that's for sure. I nodded meekly.

"Thank you."

Christian got up from his chair, and deliberately slowly walked to the front of the desk. He stopped just a few inches from me and after a moment, extended me his incredibly big hand. I gulped, he was taller than I expected, he was taller than 6 foots by far and I felt a chill of intimidation running in my veins. Under the tailored suit there was, indisputably, a very, very, well-built body. I felt myself gaping at the sight so, as quickly as I could managed, I closed my mouth and shook internally; I place my hand in his. A jolt of energy made me jump from my seat and a shiver made its way down my spine. If it wasn't for Christian's strong grip, I'd had fallen to the ground.

I managed to stabilize myself but his long, strong hand didn't seem to want to go anywhere. He kept his grip on me, and began to rub his thumb on my wrist, gently. Saying I was inexperienced was being kind, I was totally at lost on sexual games, but this small gesture made my stomach contort and a very wide wave of pleasure spread along my body. I shivered again.

He conducted me towards the door, never leaving my hand. He stopped shortly before the entrance and finally allowed my fingers to slip away. I was glad to break the physical contact because it was making me dizzy, yet I still felt accurately at loss without his warmth.

Christian was standing there, looking intently at me, appearing to be reading my soul. I twisted my hands on my sides, I was trying to avoid looking at him but it was impossible to run away from his magnet stare.

I raised my eyes to meet his and felt my body levitate, his irises were crystal clear, all tainted in grey with small strokes of shinny, sparkly, silver. His nose was straight and slender, his jaw strong and manly and he had a five o'clock shadow that conceded him a mysterious and dangerous aura. _Definitely the finest male specimen I've ever seen._

"You're beautiful,"

A second after the words left my mouth and echoed through the air, I got shocked. And embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed. My cheeks blushed all shades of red, and I was sure my crimson flush was spreading widely across my entire body. I wanted to run and threw myself out of the window.

Christian furrowed his brows firstly, trying to make sense of my words. It didn't take long until a wide smile spread in his lips. That made me even more uncomfortable. His smile morphed into a smirk, after a while. _A confident, knowing smirk._

I've just told my possibly-future-employer that he was beautiful. If wishes could come true I just wanted to be powdered into dust at that very moment.

During all the time of my ride home, my blush prevailed on my cheeks. I kept thinking how on hell, I would manage to look at that man again after my fan-girl behavior, let alone work for him. _Damn, I was so screwed._

* * *

**A/N:** I just want to let you know that there will be much more Ana/Christian interactions going on, in a near future but so far I felt the need to deepen my plot. This is mine from scratch, and all original, so I think Ana needs a little life of her own before getting sucked in into Christian's insane lifestyle. I believe she needs her own background and action because I want a deeper plot then just the two lovebirds all around. Anyway, thank you for reading! I appreciate so, so much, I can't even put to words.


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